Blast From the Past
by traveled dreams
Summary: Closed! Feel free to follow along. 'For the eighth Quarter Quell, to show the districts that our ancestors were the ones who brought on the apocalypse that led to the creation of Panem and the Hunger Games, tributes will be brought in from the past.' Tributes will be coming in from all sorts of time periods. No one is safe. It's a twist no one saw coming.
1. reading of the card

**LOLA SWEENEY, CAPITOL RESIDENT**

It's finally here. The day of the Quarter Quell announcement is finally here.

The clock strikes eight o'clock, and I leap on the couch. "ON!" I command the TV. It automatically flickers to life, and I sit back, satisfied. I'm just in time. The anthem begins to play, and the Capitol seal fills the screen. I lean in excitedly.

"Good evening, Panem!" our president, Aurora Caldwell, says. "The time has come for the reading of the eighth Quarter Quell card. For those of you who don't know, a Quarter Quell is a special Games that happens every twenty-five years. For the first Quarter Quell, the citizens of every district voted tributes in."

I nod, following along. I've watched every single Games. I smooth down my aquamarine-colored hair and adjust my fairy wings. The Capitol's going through a fairy fashion craze, and, as a sixteen-year-old teenager, I'm caught up right in the middle of it.

I turn my attention back to the screen. Shoot. President Caldwell is already on the third Quarter Quell. "For the third Quarter Quell, past victor were sent into the arena," she says hesitantly. I shift awkwardly in my seat. The mention of the third Quell makes us all uncomfortable. We try to forget about it, but once in a while, someone brings it up. You see, Katniss Everdeen started a rebellion, and Panem fell apart. The rebels almost won, but the Capitolites managed to kill the Mockingjay. The rebels were discouraged, and surrendered. The Capitol quickly rebuilt, and the Hunger Games resumed.

"For the fourth Quarter Quell," President Caldwell continues, "four times the regular amount of tributes were sent into the arena, and we had two victors. For the fifth Quarter Quell, no volunteers were allowed. For the sixth Quarter Quell, people of all ages were eligible to be reaped. For the seventh Quarter Quell, pairs of tributes were chained to each other, and two victors were allowed."

A little girl with blonde pigtails skips up to the president, holding the box containing the Quarter Quell card. President Caldwell lifts the lid, and starts coughing. She recovers after a few seconds, and pulls out the card with an embellished "8" on the front. The card is old and yellowed.

President Caldwell clears her throat, and begins to read the card. "'For the eighth Quarter Quell, to show the districts that our ancestors were the ones who brought on the apocalypse that led to the creation of Panem and the Hunger Games, tributes will be brought in from the past. We hope that by this time, the Capitol engineers have perfected their time machine and will be able to go back in time. The tributes are pre-decided. There are to be no Reapings. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

The screen cuts to its regular scheduled programming. "OFF," I command. I'm psyched for these Games. It's an interesting twist. Let the Games begin.

* * *

**AURORA CALDWELL, PRESIDENT OF PANEM**

"We can't let this happen."

I angrily slam the door behind me as I march into Head Gamemaker Crystal Zazz's mansion. I stomp into the kitchen and take a seat. I cross my arms over my chest and cross my legs as well.

"Well, hello to you too, Miss Caldwell," Crystal grins as she retrieves a box of doughnuts from the refrigerator. She shoves a chocolate frosted doughnut with rainbow sprinkles towards me. "Doughnut?"

"Not now," I snap. I twist my auburn hair - I'm one of the normal ones in the Capitol - into a messy bun. "This Quarter Quell? Insane. These kids from say, 2013, are amateurs. They've never been here. They don't know anything about Panem, or the Hunger Games. And most importantly, they can't fight."

"Aurora, don't underestimate our ancestors," Crystal says, tying her lilac hair into a high ponytail. "For one, they're well-fed."

"Yeah, but they've never had to work for anything in their lives," I counter.

"I didn't invent this Quell. People from 200 years ago did."

"I just . . . I'm just not happy with this year's Quell!" I explode. I don't think it's fair, that we're sending clueless kids in this year. They'll be so confused, and won't have any idea what to do.

"It's all for good television. They just want a good show."

"What about their parents? What will they think of this?"

"I've got it covered," Crystal assures me. "Don't worry about it. Relax for these six months. Kay?"

I nod, and slowly get up. "Well, I guess I'll be going. Later." I wave goodbye to Crystal, and exit the mansion. I slide into my limo, and command it to start driving. I sigh. I guess I'll just relax until the actual Quell. If Crystal says she's got everything under control, then she's got everything under control. I trust her. Even so, this year's Games sure will be memorable.

* * *

**FORM**

**Name: **

**Gender: **

**Age: **

**Hometown: **

**Year living in: **

**Preferred district to be placed in: **

**Weight:**

**Height:**

**Hair color:**

**Hair style:**

**Eye color:**

**Personality:**

**Strengths: **

**Weaknesses: **

**Friends:**

**Family:**

**Brief History:**

**What they were doing the day that they were 'reaped:' **

**'Reaping' outfit:**

**Token:**

**Ideas for chariot/interview outfits (optional): **

**Reaction to being told that they were going to Panem:**

**Reaction to seeing the technology in Panem: **

**What they showed the Gamemakers:**

**Range of training score: **

**Interview angle and quote: **

**Bloodbath strategy:**

**Arena strategy:**

**Romances: **

**Why your tribute should survive the bloodbath:**

**Why your tribute should win:**

**Preferred death:**

**Preferred finishing rank range: **

**Anything else:**

* * *

**a/n: **this is a repost of this story, which was originally on another account (if you were smart, you'd know). i'm letting you guys resubmit, because i felt like i accepted too many strong tributes. the tributes were either strong or weak. i'd like some in the middle this time. oh, and i'm being more picky. _if you submit two tributes, and one is really strong, please make sure that the other is either weak or somewhere in the middle. if you don't, then i'll have to probably get rid of the good one. _

reviews: 15 points

follow story: 15 points

favorite story: 15 points

following/favoring me gets you 15 points as well. :)

_in your review for later chapters, please make sure you tell me who you want your points to go to, or if you want to wait. make sure to keep a running total of your points, if you choose to wait and get to know all the tributes more. the first high point for sponsoring tributes will be after the reapings. if you choose to wait, be sure to get your points in at that time. no guest sponsors will be accepted._

sponsor system will be up on ze profile as soon as we get this thing started. check my profile for updated list of tributes. chapter 2 will also contain a list of tributes, but won't be updated as often.

_all reapings will be done._

_**P.M. ONLY.**_

_Ready? Go!_

rachel

***if you've read all the way down here, put 'sparkles' on the top of your form for an extra 5 points. :)


	2. tribute list

_**tribute list**_

**DISTRICT 1:**

**F: **Tessa Bentley (PrettyLittleFuhrmanizer)

**M: **Harold von Wolffe (Titanic X)

**DISTRICT 2:**

**F: **Shelby Maribels (ailes du neige)

**M: **Toby Gordon (ailes du neige)

**DISTRICT 3:**

**F: **Hanna Ann Duprey (k drama queen)

**M: **Niall Marron (BecauseofKillianJones)

**DISTRICT 4:**

**F: **Bianca "Bibi" Moreira (BecauseofKillianJones)

**M: **Taylor MeLane (DarkLordStormageddon)

**DISTRICT 5:**

**F: **Misty Gates (KatnissFire87654)

**M: **Declan Grenwald (qkelly820)

**DISTRICT 6:**

**F: **Anika Landy (Purplette237)

**M: **Henry Green (Titanic X)

**DISTRICT 7:**

**F: **Joan Albarn (Willow's Rill)

**M: **Troy Leven (PrettyLittleFuhrmanizer)

**DISTRICT 8:**

**F: **Kira Minamoto (MidnightRaven323)

**M: **Edwin Vallens-Howard (ParanoidSylph)

**DISTRICT 9:**

**F: **Sky Clark (Featherbreeze)

**M: **Thomas Ivory (xDisgracefulAvengerx)

**DISTRICT 10:**

**F: **Catherine Bushcio (AthenaGal01)

**M: **Albion Bernhard (ParanoidSylph)

**DISTRICT 11:**

**F: **Abigail Lena Martin (Featherbreeze)

**M: **Elijah Edric (AngryBirdx)

**DISTRICT 12:**

**F: **Riley Sickle (The Knife Throwing Expert)

**M: **Willis DeLuca (wishing-in-your-heart)

* * *

**a/n: **there we go. all 24 tributes complete. i'll have everyone's points tallied soon enough because i'm feeling lazy right now and it's really late. leave a review, because they can only help your tribute(s). if you're a non-submitter, keep track of your points until the games start!

-rachel


	3. reapings (1-4)

**iii.**

**REAPINGS**

**(DISTRICTS 1-6)**

**.**

**~DISTRICT ONE~**

**ASHEVILLE, NC - USA. YEAR: 2012**

Tessa Bentley squints, focusing her light green eyes on the target before releasing the string and letting the arrow fly. Perfect bull's-eye. She smiles, hitting the bull's eye is nothing new to her, she only manages to hit it 99% of the time. Her best friend since the first grade, Drew Kent, smirks. "That was a good one, Tess-y, but sadly, it was only 50 yards. Can you do 100 yards?"

She laughs, cocking a hip. "I'll do it if you do it." He shrugs, and they run to the 100-yard mark together, and face the corresponding targets. Tessa sighs, loving the feeling of the wind blowing through her dark brown hair. Her light green eyes stare into Drew's dark blue ones before they both pull back the string on their bows, and release. Drew's arrow hits the gold ring, but Tessa's only hits the red. "Looks like that's, ah, a 10 for me," Drew remarks, "and an 8 for you. Sorry, try again next time."Tessa rolls her eyes, but re-loads an arrow to try again. This time, she doesn't think of anything but hitting the bull's-eye; she bites her bottom lip, concentrating hard. _Whoosh. _The arrow hits the gold ring, perfect 10 for her!

"Would you look at that, Drew," Tessa says sarcastically, "but of course, I'm just a girl who doesn't know how to use a bow correctly. Mhmm, that's what I am." Their two other friends, Gina Kendrick and Wyatt Drake seem amused with their banter, but they don't say anything. Drew just chuckles, and doesn't bother to reply with a witty comeback.

_I win, _Tessa thinks to herself. Even though she and Drew were best friends, they could never be more than friends. Tessa could never love Drew, he was only a friend, a very good friend. She believes that love only causes pain and heartbreak, but she has never been in love, nor has she seen it. Some onlookers may assume that they are flirting with each other, but they do that all the time _as friends. _

Her mother, Ella Bentley, seems to appear out of nowhere; her dark blue eyes are narrowed, looking very menacing. Tessa knew exactly what this means, and it's not good at all. "Tessa Bentley!" she snaps. Tessa gulps, recoiling just a little bit. "I told you to come home at ten a.m. sharp this morning. You haven't even eaten breakfast yet. You said you would practice for an hour after archery practice was over, which means you would practice until ten o'clock. It's ten-thirty right now. You need to stop losing the watches that I spent so much money on for you."

"But, Mom," Tessa protests, "all I wanted was to have fun and practice my shooting skills. Maybe, if you let me have a driver's license, I could've gone home faster. I wouldn't have to walk home from every single extracurricular activity that I do. I would get home a lot faster if I could use my own car. Mom, please, I'm the only sixteen-year-old I know who doesn't have a driver's license."

"Tessa, dearie, why can't you ever take me up on my suggestion of having your brothers drive you to and from places? Now that it's summer and they're out of college, they have more free time." Tessa doesn't say anything on the outside, but on the inside, she's screaming. She honestly loves Thomas and Logan, but they won't _ever _be able to replace Cole. Her fingers go to Cole's dog tag necklace that she's wearing around her neck, and immediately wants to cry. When she was twelve years old, Cole had died in an arson fire in the local high school. Ever since then, the family became very distant. Once Thomas and Logan, who were 22 and 20, respectfully (Cole would be 19) now), went off to college, she pretty much lost touch with them. Her mother, though, became even stricter than before, and her father seemed to go on more business trips than usual.

Tessa doesn't even realize that she's crying, but she quickly wipes away her tears. Before she has the chance to say anything, a door appears out of thin air. She gapes at it, her mouth dropped open. They were outdoors, so why would a door just suddenly materialize out of thin air? A man wearing a uniform that reads _Gamemaker _steps out, and glances around. Tessa wants to throw her hands up in frustration; Asheville is only the eleventh largest city in North Carolina, not even in the top ten. The "Gamemaker" scratches his head, turns to Tessa, and asks, "Are you Tessa Bentley?"

_No, I'm Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer, _Tessa wants to reply, but decides against it. All she does is nod, and the "Gamemaker" continues, "Hello, Miss Bentley. I have come to inform you that you have been chosen as a tribute in the 200th Annual Hunger Games. I have come to take you to Panem, where you will compete in these Games. More information will be given once we reach Panem. You may bring a token with you, but that is all. Those dog tags around your neck will be just fine."

_You're crazy, _Tessa thinks. _Panem doesn't even exist. _But she puts on a poker face and shrugs. "Well, goodbye, Mom. Tell Dad and the boys goodbye for me. Bye, Drew. Bye, Gina. Bye, Wyatt." Tessa waves to her friends and family one last time before following the "Gamemaker" to the door. "Um, Gamemaker? I'll be coming back, right? I just have to participate in these 'Hunger Games,' and then I get to come back, right?"

The "Gamemaker" replies, "You may or may not come back, Tessa. Only one out of twenty-three will." _What's that supposed to mean? _Tessa wonders. Will she have to stay in Panem, or something? She didn't know the answers to those questions, but she did know one thing: she will be coming back, because she knew that her family couldn't stand to lose her and Cole both.

**.**

**~DISTRICT TWO~**

**DISTRICT TWO, PANEM. YEAR: AROUND THE 30TH HUNGER GAMES**

Toby Gordon smirks as he makes his way into the Training Academy. Today was reaping day, also known as the best day ever invented. He was currently eighteen and a half, which meant that this was his last year of being eligible for the reaping. He was volunteering for the 30th Annual Hunger Games this year. He was determined to beat out any other competitors to the stage to volunteer. Toby grabs a sword, and proceeds to rip every single dummy in the Academy to shreds (there are about two hundred dummies), barely breaking a sweat.

The Head Trainer, Brandon, beams at him, after all, Toby is his star student. "Nice job. With you here, we go through more than one thousand dummies per week. You're volunteering this year, right?" Toby nods proudly; volunteering and winning the Games was the greatest accomplishment ever to the citizens of District Two, and everybody looked up to you. "When you win, come back and help us with the students, okay?"

Toby smiles, yes, it was nice knowing that people believed that he could win and make his district proud. Quite frankly, all he ever wanted to do was become a Victor, it's what he was trained to do every since he was born. "Well, what can I do now?" he asks, feeling bored.

"I suggest you go home —or, back to the orphanage— and get dressed for the reaping. You're going to be on national TV, might as well look your best," Brandon suggests. Toby shrugs, deciding to do just that. He waves to Brandon as he exits the Academy. Today's training session was fairly short, but Toby feels that he's already the best he can be, there's no more room for improvement. He runs all the way to the orphanage, a place he can never really call home.

You see, when Toby was only two years old, his parents had died, leaving him in the hands of his foster parents. When he reached the age of twelve, his foster parents sent him to the orphanage, claiming that he was now "too old to take care of." Toby didn't mind, though, he has always been a bit hostile and antisocial, and never really cared for his foster parents. He doesn't have any friends, but Toby doesn't need friends, his sword and his spear are his friends. He believes in _alliances _rather than _friends, _because sometimes you grow too close to friends and begin to trust them, and can never kill them. Yes, alliances are always better, he supposes.

Once Toby is inside the orphanage, he is quick to pick out a reaping outfit and change. The walk to the town square was about thirty minutes from the orphanage, and he could not risk being late. He dresses in a simple T-shirt and jeans, to show everyone in the Capitol that he doesn't care about the little things like clothes, he's got his eyes on the prize, which is the title of _Victor. _He runs a comb through his blonde hair, though a comb isn't really needed, considering that his hair is short and kept above the ears (traditional training style). Toby splashes water on his face to make sure that his light green eyes are bright and alert, and he is off. The thirty minute-walk to the town square seems to only take three minutes. He quickly signs in and stands in the eighteen-year-old section. He has arrived quite early, but to him, that is a good thing.

Toby almost falls asleep as the mayor plays the yearly video and reads the Treaty of Treason until finally, the annoying escort with the bubblegum pink hair makes her way onto the stage. "Okay, um, ladies first, as always." She saunters over to the glass bowl and fishes out a slip of paper. Toby doesn't hear the name, but can see that the girl reaped was a young thirteen-year-old; a volunteer quickly replaces her. "Now for the boys. Jacob Platt," the escort announces.

"I volun-" Before Toby has a chance to finish his sentence, two Peacekeepers take him by the arms and drag him to a patch of grass outside the town square. He pushes them off, then angrily exclaims, "What the fuck was that for? Couldn't you see that I was about to volunteer?"

Peacekeeper number one just smiles. "A Gamemaker will be with you shortly, Mr. Gordon. Please wait here." With that, the two Peacekeepers were gone, leaving Toby alone and bewildered. _What had just happened? _he thinks to himself. He must be in trouble or something, why else would a Gamemaker be coming to talk to him? He tries to think back to previous years of the Games, but nothing comes up; no, Gamemakers never ever visited the Districts. If there was something important to be said, the President was sure to come do it himself.

Toby hears footsteps behind him, and he turns around cautiously; sure enough, a Gamemaker was approaching him. "Hello, Toby Gordon," she says. "I have come to inform you that you have been chosen as a tribute in the 200th Annual Hunger Games. I have come to take you to future Panem, where you will participate in these Games. More information will be provided as soon as we reach future Panem. Do you have a token prepared?" Toby shakes his head; Miss Gamemaker continues, "Very well, then. Do you want to say goodbye to your family?"

He shakes his head again. "I don't have any family," Toby mumbles. "My parents died when I was two years old. I live in an orphanage." Miss Gamemaker purses her lips, nodding. "Oh, one question. Is this being filmed?"

"Yes, this is the actual _reaping _that is being aired live in future Panem right now," she answers.

Upon hearing this, Toby puts on a charming smile, wanting to win over the audience. He didn't know anything about the 200th Hunger Games, but he knew one thing: he was coming out of the arena, alive.

**.**

**~DISTRICT THREE~**

**BEVERLY HILLS, CA - USA. YEAR: 2012**

The only sound that can be heard is the click-clacking of Hanna Ann Duprey's heels as she makes her way down Rodeo Drive with the confidence of someone who was hot, and knew it. All eyes are on her as she adjusts her Gucci sunglasses. Of course, she is used to this, having grown up in the spotlight, her face being plastered on the cover of every magazine; the entire world watched her grow up. Random passerby's wouldn't have any reason not to stare, after all, she was famous, and was a natural beauty, with her long, wavy, brown hair enhanced with blonde highlights and glossy green eyes.

Hanna enters Tiffany & Co., and smiles. She buys most of her jewelry from here, and absolutely loves the store. She doesn't really know what she's doing here today, since she doesn't really need anything, but she always needs to shop. Hanna has visited every single store here on Rodeo Drive, and bought almost every single thing available. Shopping was almost boring nowadays, even for a shopaholic like her. _  
_

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots a new charm, and it's in the shape of _flames. _Hanna feels goosebumps creep up her arms, and they were not from the air conditioning. Flames might just be her greatest weakness. When she was twelve years old, she and her mom were driving, and got in a terrible car crash. Her mom was killed on instant, and Hanna was trapped inside the car. A fire started, and she was almost burned alive. She got out, though, but not without a few scars and nightmares for life. Hanna sighs; she may look and act like a snob and a bitch, but deep deep down, she has a soul. She doesn't like it when people judge her just because of her fame and popularity, and because she is friends with the rich and spoiled girls, like Tiffany Arnolds and Dani Rodgers. She is also capable of more than just shopping; she has been trained in martial arts and is a black belt in karate. Hanna is also perfect with throwing knives, although no one is supposed to know this.

She misses her mom a lot, and cries about it once in a blue moon. Her dad being one of the richest CEOs in the country has its pros and cons. Hanna gets to live in a mansion and have many, many credit cards, but her father is always working and never has much time for family. It gets lonely, staying in a big house, all alone; that's why Hanna shops all the time. Her mom was very pretty, and a model, and Hanna hopes to follow in her footsteps one day.

"Need any help?" the saleslady with the tight chignon asks, noticing that Hanna is just standing around and not buying anything. She shakes her head, offering a weak smile. She didn't really need anything, because she already has everything she ever wanted, and more. Shopping was almost _boring _nowadays; there was nothing left for her to buy. So Hanna just stands there, not bothering to visit any other store, watching as people weave in and out of the store. Mostly everyone stops to glance her way, mutters of _it's that Duprey girl from the magazines _can be heard.

Hanna's glossy green eyes dart from shopper to shopper, trying to find someone she recognizes, preferably Tiffany or Dani, but there is not one familiar face in the crowd. She finds it strange, almost, that everyone recognizes her, yet she recognizes no one. Of course, they all think she's a spoiled brat, but they don't even know her, frankly. That's why Hanna wears sunglasses all the time; she doesn't want people whispering and pointing. But even with the sunglasses, people still recognizes her. Hanna sighs, there's just no escaping the paparazzi.

"Hanna Ann Duprey?" Hanna whips her head around, only to find a woman in a [hideous] uniform stepping out of a helicopter. Upon closer inspection, Hanna notices that her uniform reads _Gamemaker, _whatever the hell that was. The _Gamemaker _lady had curly orange hair and wings etched into her back. Hanna wrinkles her nose —what kind of fashion trends did this lady follow? She then nods, muttering an almost inaudible _mhmm, _and returns her attention to shopping. Hanna hears the woman sigh behind her, but continues to say, "Miss Duprey, I have come to inform you that you have been chosen as a tribute in the 200th Annual Hunger Games. I have come to take you to Panem, where you will take part in these Games. The whole situation will be explained in detail as soon as we arrive at Panem. You are only permitted to bring a token with you."

_Panem, _Hanna thinks to herself, _sounds like an interesting place. _After all, she could really use a vacation; Beverly Hills got boring after residing there for sixteen years. Besides, she has always loved to travel and visit new places. "M'kay, can I use my charm bracelet?" _Gamemaker _lady nods. Hanna fingers her charms on her bracelet lovingly, they were a gift from her mother four years ago, right before she died; the charms and bracelet were bought at _this very store. _She never ever takes it off, because it is one of the only connections she has to her mom. There is an _H _charm (_H _for _Hanna, _obviously), a _peace sign_ charm, a _four-leaf clover _charm(for luck), a _Tiffany & Co. shopping bag _charm, a _high heel _charm, and a _cupcake _charm.

Before she steps into the helicopter, Hanna pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head, wanting to take one last look at the city she grew up in. She wishes that she had time to say goodbye to Tiffany, Dani, and her father, but she knows she has to obey Miss _Gamemaker._ "Bye, Beverly Hills. I'll see you soon. Hopefully."

**.**

**~DISTRICT FOUR~**

**LONDON, ENGLAND. YEAR: 2013**

The pen flits across the notebook page rapidly; Taylor MeLane is too absorbed in his writing to bother to swipe his shaggy dark brown hair out of his eyes. The aforementioned bright green eyes squint in concentration, zeroing in on the words on the page. Random kids stop to stare at him, wondering why he is sitting on the park, bench, all alone, writing in a _diary. _Taylor just ignores them, because what do they know? He snorts, everyone always assumes that he is writing in a diary, when in reality, he is writing a story of his own. One day, when he gets published, that'll show them that it wasn't a _diary. _

Taylor sighs, he doesn't even want to be writing out in public, but his mother had insisted that he go outside for some fresh air. He prefers to read write in his room with the door locked, so no one will be able to bother him. He was always a bit of a loner, never having many friends. Just as Taylor is about to turn the page, one of the jocks by the name of Jared or something like that approaches him. "'Ello, Taylor. How's the diary, princess?"

He ignores Jared, flipping the page in his _journalnotdiary. _He must not to let the 'cool' and 'popular' kids get to him. _If you ignore it, it will go away, _Taylor thinks to himself; sure enough, Jared does leave after a few seconds, seeing that his words have no effect on Taylor, who breathes a sigh of relief. Why couldn't he just fly by under the radar without anyone noticing him, for once? Taylor likes to keep to himself, and is typically a shy person. He has a few friends, but they were all currently busy. He watches as Jared and his friends engage in an intense game of football. He never really understood why other boys liked to kick around a little black-and-white ball so much. But hey, everyone has their hobbies, and his is writing.

Writing is a way for him to get lost in his own little world, something he rarely has the chance to do in the busy city of London. His journal is his best friend, and pretty much his only friend, unless you count the kids he sits with at lunch —which Taylor doesn't. He plays with his pen, trying to come up with a good plot idea. He has had many, many failed ideas in the past that he wrote about 5,000 words on before discarding them, ripping out the pages and throwing them in the wastebasket.

_Wouldn't it be cool, _he thinks, _if books were real? What if, one day, I actually found my way into Diagon Alley? After all, I do live in London. _Taylor thinks that this is a great idea, however, he never got a letter from Hogwarts when he was eleven; he is fifteen now, so there was no way he could be getting the letter this late. Taylor sighs, he wishes the books he read were real. Those fake worlds were ten times better than this real world, anyway.

There is the snap of a twig behind him, and Taylor quickly looks around for the source of the snapping. He sees a middle-aged man with spiky green hair and oddly colored turquoise skin. _Where is this man from? _he thinks, not daring to ask the question out loud. Had he imagined someone from a book? Was he hallucinating or something?

"You're Taylor MeLane, right?" the Gamemaker asks him; without waiting for an answer, he continues, "Good, I thought so. Mr. MeLane, I have come to inform you that you have been chosen as a tribute in the 200th Annual Hunger Games. I have come to take you to Panem, where you will compete in these Games. More information will be provided once we reach Panem. You are permitted to bring a token with you." Taylor glances down at the wristband given to him by his sister, Ashla, and decides that it will be suitable for a token.

"Great, that's awesome!" Taylor exclaims. "I can't wait to go to Panem."

Gamemaker guy only chuckles. "Taylor, I think I should tell you this now, instead of putting it off until later. The Hunger Games is rather . . . unlike the other games you know. To put it simplest, it is a fight to the death; the last tribute standing wins. I'm afraid that you're going to have to kill other teenagers. Sorry about the misunderstanding," the Gamemaker clarifies, not looking the least bit sorry. Taylor gulps, his excitement suddenly turning to bitterness. He didn't want to kill other teenagers, but he wanted to come home to London. Even if wasn't the best place to be, it was home.

* * *

**********TALLY: 4,019 words**

**a/n: ****So here's Districts 1-4. I was originally going to do Districts 1-6, but then I felt bad for you guys because I wasn't updating. Next chapter will be Districts 5-8. Have you noticed that every tribute had green eyes? **

**Are you excited for Districts 5-8? Which tribute was your favorite? Leave a review, because reviews are +15 points.**

**xo rachel**


End file.
